Emmeline was haunted. Not her house, not her possessions, but Emmeline herself. There was something inside her scratching to get out. But Emmeline would never let it out. The dead had no place in the realm of the living.

Emmeline grew from the Umbra Prairie, far south of Lore, the smallest city bordering the Sapphire Sea. She grew from the waving grasses, herself a wildflower, a wisp among wisps, painting the prairie with dusk pink smoke.

She was pale and freckled, with scrawny limbs and teeth that were too large for her smile, but such things were of no worry to her. With flowers and foxes for friends, the thoughts of humans passed over her like any other dark cloud.

Life would not stay kind to young Emmeline. She was plucked from the prairie and placed in a wooden classroom wher...

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